Trailers for Wes Anderson’s new film “The Grand Budapest Hotel” started swirling around the Internet last week. The film, set to release in March 2014, seems to have all the trademark Anderson quirks we first fell in love with.
The story follows Gustave H., played by Ralph Fiennes, a beloved concierge at the Grand Budapest Hotel, as he befriends the young bell boy Zero Moustafa, played by Toni Revolori. You may recognize a few names among the supporting cast, including Bill Murray, Owen Wilson and Adrien Brody, to name just a few.
But if you’re new to this somewhat off-beat movie scene, a couple of questions may come to mind. The first being, “Who is Wes Anderson?” To answer this, allow me to take you back to my first Anderson film.
There I was, freshman year, wandering up to the Bama Theatre scared, lost and lonely. I was buying tickets to a movie I knew nothing about with people I had just met a week prior. All of me wanted to be at home watching “Lost” reruns on my couch, but somehow I found myself in a seat praying for the lights to dim before any more nonsense came tumbling out of my mouth.
The opening credits for “Moonrise Kingdom” flashed across the screen. The next 94 minutes were filled with a mixture of joy and nostalgia as I watched two children act out a love story far beyond their years. Sam Shakusky, an orphaned Khaki Scout played by Jared Gilman, and Suzy Bishop, an apathetic oldest daughter played by Kara Hayward, run away together as a treacherous storm approaches the New England coast. The 12-year-olds fight off Khaki Scouts and Social Services in their quest to preserve their love.
I sat there stunned as the credits rolled. It was unlike any other movie I had ever seen, and I wanted more. Throughout the next six months, I watched every Anderson movie I could get my hands on.
As a director and writer, Anderson pairs bright, elaborate scenes with dark, dysfunctional characters to create worlds filled with tragedy and adventure. Though his characters are often extreme, each remains relatable. His stories deal with problems we all face, be it heartbreak, rejection or inadequacy, yet somehow they retain a childlike whimsy.
I imagine watching Anderson’s films is comparable to watching a child play with a doll house. Each room is carefully decorated, each doll properly dressed and each story carefully, or not so carefully, woven from the same thread.
Simply put, Anderson’s films are magical, and I see “The Grand Budapest Hotel” fitting in quite nicely. But you don’t have to take my word for it. After all, March is just around the corner.
